Monday, September 30, 2013

“Come Monday…” is a
weekly series that will involve a review of (or commentary about) websites,
movies, documentaries, television shows, sports, music, and whatever else may
tickle my fancy at the time. Be assured
that these reviews will be generally positive, as in accordance to the Jimmy
Buffett song “Come Monday.” This is
subject to change, however. In fact, I
would be most derelict in my duties to neglect going on a rant every once in a
while. For rants promote change, and
change can be good—right? Therefore,
since good is generally considered as being a positive force in 99.3% of the
parallel universes that I am aware of, even a rant could be considered as being
something positive, and a genuine hissy-fit would be even better (so I’m told).

Just
in case you do not already know, [Bob Iger] is the CEO of [The Walt DisneyCompany]. One of the parts to Disney is
[ABC], and one of ABC’s new shows is [Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D]. Hence, the reason why Bob Iger has to be on the
blacklist for high crimes and treason against all who hunger and thirst after
good television shows to watch.

If
you were suckered into watching the pilot episode last week, you know that
there is not much more to be said, but for the benefit of those mercifully
spared such a fate, ABC’s Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was as bad as the
recent Iron Man movies have been good.
For the Iron Mans have been a delightful blend of awesome special
effects, strong storylines and self-effacing humor. Whereas, at least the pilot episode of the television
show was all about defecation, and you can take that to mean whatever you dare
to imagine (in a figurative sense).

Why
blame Bob Iger? After all, the
television show is a nightmare formed in the mind of [Joss Wheden], which I
find quite shocking. For we liked his
[Dollhouse], and loved his [Serenity].
Oh, and who doesn’t love his [Toy Story]?

Alas,
I suppose he was due a flop, and Bob Iger is the man who ultimately made it
happen (naturally-speaking, of course). For no one can convince me that
the CEO of the parent company has no say in what makes it on the air—regardless
of how independently-run ABC may be.
Besides, I have a hard time trusting someone who has an office with a fairly thick layer of pixie dust covering the furniture.

Yeah,
yeah, yeah, all of that is a matter of my opinion, and it may very well be wrong. For Arlynda wants to keep watching the show,
but with her being married to me, how could her judgment not be considered
quite questionable (at best)?

On
the other hand, we both absolutely loved NBC’s [The Blacklist], and neither one
of us are ashamed to admit that it was just on account of it starring [James Spader] that had us intrigued to begin with.
For he most certainly delivered.

Is
he not the most loveable evil genius since [Dr. Evil]? For even when Spader is playing a straight up
and down good guy, there is a rather ornery side to his nature that refuses to
stay in the shadows for very long at a time.

Oh
yeah, the things that he could do to Bob Iger…
I sure hope they write it into a script, but if they don’t, I have every
confidence in Spader saving the day for us who hunger and thirst after good
television shows to watch week after week.

It
is arguable that The Blacklist is a rip-off of [The Silence of the Lambs] and
related movies, but how is that a bad thing?
Be afraid, Bob Iger. Be very
afraid.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Back during my childhood, our parents would often load
up my brother and me after Sunday morning church services for a leisurely drive
around where we lived. Even though we
were seeing mostly familiar sights, it was still good to see them, and this is
why “A Sunday Drive” sounded about right for the name of a weekly series
revisiting familiar sites that are well worth seeing again and again. The link below the image is to the site
itself, and the image is linked to the post it was first included in here.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Ironically, some of the best television commercials are
for ESPN, and only air on ESPN. Now, I
do not know if these ads really are meant to add all the more to the viewing
experience, but it works for me.

***HEAR YE!
HEAR YE!***

This will
be the last edition of ESPN Additions. For
it has been brought to my attention that a new series, which will be much more
palatable to the tastes of my regular readers, should start next Saturday
morning. Therefore, be ye joyful. That is all.

Friday, September 27, 2013

The SOLE purpose of this weekly series is
to help call attention to sites that I think many would find most
interesting—in one way or another. Just
to be clear, inclusion in this series is not necessarily meant as a
recommendation, and I have included sites that are rather disturbing to
me. The link below each image is to the
site itself, and each image is linked to the particular post from which it was
taken when applicable. Please, go see
for yourself. Oh, and as of August 10,
2012, I will be no longer including sites that have auto-play and word
verification engaged.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

This weekly series
will include as many of my all-time favorite tunes as I can get my grubby
little hands on (so to speak). Now, each
one included in each edition will have some connection with the other—albeit
only as a figment of my imagination, but they will not be numbered. For I just cannot bring myself to rate some
higher than others. So, this will not be
a countdown, but if you are enjoying them as much as I do, it won’t
matter. Besides, with no countdown, this
could go on forever and ever! Oh, and
despite the fact that there is absolutely no way that your musical tastes can
be as exquisite as mine, I welcome any suggestions that you might dare to
make. I am, after all, quite magnanimous
by nature.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Since not everyone
has been as appreciative of my efforts with the Good, Bad and Ugly Ads series
as they should be, it seemed prudent to shake things up a bit from time to
time. Hence, Good, Great and Glorious
Ads, as well as Bad, Ugly and Awful Ads.
Oh, and if these new approaches are still not to your complete and utter
satisfaction, I would tell you what you can do with the point of your view if
saying things like that did not now leave such a bitter taste in my mouth. Therefore, be ye thankful!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

After
the try-outs, Sadie Mae just sat in a corner by herself and sulked. For she had danced her little heart out, and
all she received for her efforts was a spot as a moth, along with a glowing
glass ball as a consolation prize, she supposed.

She
blamed her mother. For her mother knew
how badly she wanted to be a butterfly.
Yet, she used green material for her costume, which had to have had an
impact upon the director.

“Come
on now, how could she have made it out of green material? Has anyone ever seen a green butterfly? I know I haven’t. Some moths are green. Everybody knows that!”

“What
are you talking about, and to whom?”

Sadie
was horrified to find that her mutterings to herself had been overheard by one
of her competitors. “Did I really speak
out-loud, or is she a mind-reader?”

“Why
are so upset with your mother?”

“That
is no concern of yours,” Sadie Mae replied in a rather icy tone.

“Maybe
not, but I would think that you would be too thrilled over winning the lead role
to be upset with your mother right now.”

“What
are you talking about?”

“Polilla
La Luna?”

“So?”

“Polilla
La Luna is the name of the ballet and Spanish for The Moon Moth. You are holding the moon in your hands,
silly.”

A
look of horror spread across Sadie Mae’s face.
For there she had been thinking such bad thoughts about her mother when
the truth was that her mother had went to extraordinary lengths to help her.

Sadie
Mae ran out of the auditorium with tears streaming down her face, and she raced
to get home and have supper on the table when her mother made it home after
finishing another 12-hour shift at the garment factory. When she went to set the kitchen table, she
found her mother’s sewing machine still set-up, and lying beside it was a
picture of a moth more beautiful than she could ever imagine.

Monday, September 23, 2013

“Come Monday…” is a
weekly series that will involve a review of (or commentary about) websites,
movies, documentaries, television shows, sports, music, and whatever else may
tickle my fancy at the time. Be assured
that these reviews will be generally positive, as in accordance to the Jimmy
Buffett song “Come Monday.” This is
subject to change, however. In fact, I
would be most derelict in my duties to neglect going on a rant every once in a
while. For rants promote change, and
change can be good—right? Therefore,
since good is generally considered as being a positive force in 99.3% of the
parallel universes that I am aware of, even a rant could be considered as being
something positive, and a genuine hissy-fit would be even better (so I’m told).

Just
in case you have not noticed yet, [Bittersweet Refinements] is now available on
the Amazon Kindle platform for a dollar.
The cover displays the full extent of my artistry with digital graphics,
which is woefully inadequate for what I have in mind for A Love for the Ages.

As
you will soon see, since I have included the text for the book below, A Love
for the Ages is a fable that I think would really come to life with
illustrations of different scenes. The
text is subject to some polishing, but I think it is pretty much finished as
is.

Alas,
since we have no disposable income, the illustrated project would have to be a
cooperative one at this time. Be assured
that I am not opposed to offering the book at a higher price, considering the
amount of work done on the illustrations, and I would want the illustrator to
receive at least 70% of our portion of the sales.

So,
if you are interested in doing the illustrations, or know of someone who might
be, please shoot me an email at FishHawk7@gmail.com. In any event, may our Heavenly Father’s will
be done.

A Love for the Ages

‘Tis more than a mere fable.

Act 1

The
dawn was yet to break, but with each passing moment, more and more emerged from
the shadows of the night. Fruit trees in
full bloom now stood where a veil of darkness just hung, and a mist hovered
above the surface of the lake.

Yes,
the time was indeed at hand, and all eyes were trained upon the mist. For no one wanted to miss an ignition of the
fire cloud.

No, it
is not that the mist was about to actually catch fire, but it was still aptly
named. For it would go from a swirling
mix of gun metal blue and battleship gray to a hundred different shades of red,
orange and yellow in a twinkling of an eye if everything was just right when
the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon a few days each year.

Adding
all the more to the wonder was the reflection of the fire cloud upon the
surface of the water. For every ripple
would take on the appearance of a tongue of flame, and one could even see the
fire race from the east to the west across the lake, if they stood in the right
spot.

Still
hardly seems adequate to describe the atmosphere as the sun crept ever closer
toward the breaking of the dawn. For it
was as if all of nature held its breath in anticipation, and the silence was
deafening.

Finally,
a collective gasp could be heard as the cloud began to erupt. This was followed by the sounds of singing
birds, croaking frogs and the hearty cheers of the throng of people in attendance. Fish jumping out of the water added some
rhythm to the chorus. Be assured that
joy abounded in the hearts, minds and souls of all who had been given eyes to
see such a sight.

Then,
the piercing cry of an osprey soaring high overhead signaled the end of the
show, which had lasted but for a moment or two.
Nonetheless, it was a memory that would surely last for a lifetime, and
no one left disappointed.

Calvin
was certainly glad to be there, but it was not just in regards to the fire
cloud that he felt that way. In fact, he
paid less attention to it than anyone else.
For his eyes were trained upon what he considered to be a much more
beautiful sight.

He did
appreciate how much the fire cloud complimented the brilliance of her eyes,
however. For it literally took his
breath away when its spectacular display of reds, oranges and yellows reflected
off of their emerald green centers that were each encircled by a deep blue
sapphire ring.

He also
appreciated how much it enhanced the natural iridescence of her hair. For each strand varied from reddish-brown to
honey blond, with light brown and strawberry blond mixed in for good measure,
and in the light of the fire cloud, her hair appeared to glow.

Her
name was Cassandra, and she was indeed quite a sight to behold. For from the top of her head to the soles of
her feet, she was a vision of physical perfection, and the most beautiful part
about her was her heart!

It was
Calvin’s duty to protect her from harm, but he did not see it as such. For he had fallen in love with her, and he
never wanted to leave her side.

Cassandra’s
efforts to stifle a giggle failed miserably, which caused some heads to
turn. She scolded under her breath, “See
what you’ve done!”

Calvin
just grinned, and Cassandra shook her head as if thoroughly disgusted for the
benefit of the crowd. Nonetheless, she
actually delighted in the attention that Clayton constantly lavished upon
her. For he always made her feel so very
special—even almost worthy of her station in life, which was to be the future
queen of the land.

This
had been her station since birth. For
her marriage to Prince Victor had been arranged long before she came to be, and
in accordance to the custom of the land, he would become king, and she would
become his queen, as soon as they took their vows.

To her
credit, she did not take it for granted.
If anything, Cassandra took her destiny more seriously than she should.

No, it
is not that she considered it a burden, but she did have her concerns. For she had not even met the man yet, and she
worried about what Prince Victor would think of her when it was time for them
to meet for the first time, not to mention—for the rest of their lives.

Now,
logic would dictate that she had a good reason to have her concerns about him,
but she had an equally good reason to be rather confident of what she would
find in Prince Victor. For Calvin’s
other duty was to serve as a bodyguard for the prince, and she had been told
that one of the main reasons for him being chosen for such a great honor was on
account of how similar he was to Prince Victor—both in appearance and
mannerisms. In fact, it was said that
the only thing different about them was a heart-shaped birthmark in the center
of Prince Victor’s chest.

Yes,
Cassandra understood that it was what was on the inside that really counted,
and that being similar was not the same as being identical. After all, the prince might not see her in
the same light as Calvin appeared to.
She had hope, however, and that hope was in the possibility of Prince
Victor being as much like Calvin on the inside as Calvin was supposed to be
like Prince Victor on the outside.

True to
form, Calvin had been watching her the whole time, and he could see that
Cassandra’s mind was no longer on where they were. So, he leaned down and softly asked, “A token
for your thoughts?”

Feigning
exasperation, Calvin asked, “That it is, my lady, but how much more can you
want?”

With a
broad smile, Cassandra closed her eyes and replied, “I want it all.”

This
brought an equally broad smile to Calvin’s face, and he hated having to tell
her that it was time for them to go. The
call of duty was paramount, however.
Therefore, he was obliged to say, “The others have all gone, my lady,
and there is much to do.”

Calvin
immediately let out a laugh that could be heard on the other side of the lake,
and he was still chuckling as they made their way back to the mansion that had
been prepared for Cassandra to reside in before the wedding. Cassandra just smiled, which added even more
to Calvin’s delight.

The
path they were taking was near the bottom of a deep hollow. Mighty oaks dominated the hillsides, and
weeping willows hung low over a babbling brook.

Nary a
word was spoken as they walked, but this is not to say that they traveled in
silence. For a murder of crows sounded
out with what someone with enough imagination could consider as being like a
procession march.

Several
squirrels in the area also had their part to play, but from the tone of their
barking, they did not appear to be very happy about it. Squirrels can be rather cranky at times, I am
told.

Cassandra’s
abode soon came into view, and the captain of the guard was waiting on them at
the front door to announce, “Prince Victor has requested the pleasure of your
company, my lady. He would like to see
you as soon as possible.”

Cassandra
fainted dead away, but Calvin caught her before her head could hit the
ground. He then carried her inside and
laid her gently upon her bed.

Act 2

Immediately
upon regaining consciousness, Cassandra could tell that something unusual was
going on, and a quick look around the room confirmed her suspicions. For Calvin was not sitting next to the door,
which is where he had always been when she awoke since before she could
remember.

A knot
was steadily growing in the pit of her stomach.
For it appeared to be dark outside now.

An
eerie silence hanging in the air like a pall was not helping any. For the big house was usually buzzing with
activity at all hours of the day and night.

After
taking a moment or two to collect herself, Cassandra made her way down the
hallway that led to a small alcove located near the kitchen. For this is where the servants liked to
gather when they were taking a break, and she figured that anyone still around
would most likely be there.

She was
overjoyed to finally find someone when she first saw the captain of the guard
and four of his soldiers sitting at a table in the center of the room, but her
euphoria quickly faded. For they did not
look very happy to see her.

Cassandra
blinked, and when her eyes refocused, the scene was quite different. For the captain and his men were now standing
at attention. Furthermore, they were all
now looking at her with deep concern, and she knew that this was concern over
her welfare instead of their own.

The
captain asked, “Would you like to sit down, my lady?”

Cassandra
nodded her head in agreement, and he walked over and pulled out a chair for her
to sit in.

When
she was seated, the captain asked, “Would you like some hot cider?”

Cassandra
again nodded her head in agreement, and the captain motioned for one of his men
to go get her a cup.

Cassandra
eagerly reached for the steaming cup when he returned, and after taking a
couple of sips, she started feeling a little better. This too quickly faded after she asked, “What
has happened?”

The captain
answered, “Do you remember fainting when I informed you of Prince Victor
wanting to see you as soon as possible, my lady?”

Cassandra
responded with a meek, “Yes.”

“Well,
the prince was very upset when you did not arrive that evening, and Calvin has
taken your place in prison,” the captain told her with an ever so slight
tremble in his voice.

His
mouth had not yet closed from speaking when Cassandra leapt to her feet and
demanded, “How could this have happened?”

The
captain of the guard took in a hard gulp of air before answering, “It is the
law of the land, my lady.”

In a
voice an octave or two higher than normal, Cassandra asked, “What law?”

“I am
sorry, my lady, but I am under orders to not discuss this with you,” the
captain replied in almost a whisper.

Undaunted,
Cassandra demanded, “Take me to Calvin now!”

“It is
very late, my lady, and it would be better if we waited until after
sunrise. In fact, it would actually be
even better if you did not go until sometime in the afternoon,” the captain
informed her.

“I
don’t care!” Cassandra exclaimed with a very uncharacteristic sternness to her
voice.

“Surely
you must be hungry, my lady,” the captain countered. “For it has been almost three days since you
have eaten anything that I am aware of.”

The
captain took in another hard gulp of air before answering, “It was almost three
days ago when I first informed you of the prince wanting to see you as soon as
possible, my lady.”

The
color drained from Cassandra’s face, and she gingerly sat back down in her
seat. Then she gathered her resolve,
stood back up, and told the captain in no uncertain tones, “No, I am not
hungry! Now, if you and your men are not
willing to escort me, I will just have to go there by myself.”

Without
hesitation, the captain motioned for two of his men to lead the way. He walked alongside Cassandra, and his other
two men trailed behind.

On a
good night, a walk to Victor Castle from there would be a very pleasant
experience to most. For it was not all
that far away, and the sight of its four ivory watch towers gleaming in the
moonlight is nothing short of spectacular.
This was anything but a good night, however.

The
four ivory watch towers are not the only spectacular things about Victor
Castle—be assured. For it is said that
its front gate was carved out of a single pearl that was 30 feet in diameter,
and the outer walls were constructed of white marble slabs too large to be
handled by conventional means.

Panes
of solid amber lined the main hall, and each interior room is a different
wonder in and of itself. As to be
expected, there is one part of the castle that is not so well adorned.

Cassandra
sorely regretted refusing to eat something before they left when the putrid
stench of the dungeon invaded her nostrils.
For dry heaves always make bad situations worse.

Monstrous
rats watched Cassandra’s every move, and they seemed to be daring the soldiers
to kick at them before scurrying off in every direction. She burst into tears when she saw Calvin
chained to the wall inside of a cell that was made of heavy iron bars that were
covered with rust, along with a thick greenish-black slime that also coated the
walls.

“Please
do not cry, my lady,” Calvin softly told her.

“I
don’t…understand…why this is happening,” Cassandra replied in between
sobs. “I know…that I upset the prince,
but…why are you in chains down here?”

“I am
down here doing my duty, my lady. For I
am charged with protecting you from all harm to the very best of my abilities,”
Calvin answered.

“But
how can you protect me from anything in that cell?” Cassandra asked with a very
confused look on her face.

With a
look of great pain, Calvin answered, “I am taking your place in here, as I will
also being doing at dawn.”

“What
happens then?” Cassandra asked.

“I
would rather not say,” Calvin replied.

“Please,
do not seek to protect me from this. For
not knowing would surely do more harm than good,” Cassandra pleaded.

“I will
be placed in a pit where I will be stoned to death, and then hogs will be let
in to feed upon my carcass,” Calvin calmly answered.

Absolute
horror would be the best way to describe the look on Cassandra’s face after she
heard Clayton’s explanation. She tried
to speak, but no words would come.

When
she found some more resolve, she asked, “Surely Prince Victor could not be so
vain and vindictive—could he? For I can
understand how he could feel insulted when I failed to show up for dinner that
night, but considering the fact that I took ill, can he really justify such a
harsh punishment?”

Calvin
quickly answered, “Be assured that the prince does not need to justify anything
to anyone. That is, except to his
father, the king, of course, and since they are as one in heart, mind and soul about
everything, there is never any question of him doing just exactly as his father
would have him to.”

“Woe is
me,” Cassandra moaned. “For both my
prince and his father, the king, are monsters.”

Calvin
responded rather harshly, “You should never think in such a way! For it is just not true.”

Again,
Cassandra burst into tears, and then let out a mournful wail that should never
be heard coming from such a lovely young lass.
For it was a sound that should only be heard coming from a wild animal
on a lonely mountaintop and echoing down deep canyons in the middle of dark
nights. Be assured that it brought tears
to the eyes of even the battle-hardened soldiers standing guard on the outside
of Clayton’s cell.

Calvin
stifled a wail of his own enough to gently reply, “Be assured that it is not
their fault. For they both love you very
much, and neither have any desire to harm you.”

Having
again collected herself somewhat, Cassandra managed to ask, “So, why must this
sentence be carried out?”

“The
problem is that one of the ministers knew of a statute that had been enacted
long ago, when such rules were necessary in order to promote order, that
decreed that anyone found guilty of disrespecting a member of the royal family
would be stoned to death, and then have their remains fed to hogs in order to
add all the more to their disgrace,” Calvin answered.

In a
much steadier tone, Cassandra asked, “Being the supreme ruler over all of the
land, why couldn’t the king just do away with such a law—especially since it is
no longer necessary?”

“Under
normal circumstances, the king would just forgive the penalty, but since this
involves his son and his future daughter-in-law, he did not want any
accusations of impropriety to tarnish the union,” Clayton explained.

Cassandra
pleaded, “Could I go and speak with them before it is too late?”

“No,
that is not possible. For they are both
indisposed at this time,” Calvin answered.

Cassandra
let out another wail, and then fell silent when she heard the sound of heavy
boots headed their way. For she knew
what was about to happen.

“The
time has come,” the captain of the guard announced.

Cassandra
then turned toward Calvin, and when their eyes met, she said, “I love you, and
I will always love you.”

Calvin
collapsed in a heap when they unchained him from the wall, but it was not
because of the confinement, nor the thought of what was yet to come, that he
did so. For it was hearing what
Cassandra said that so overwhelmed him.
For it was something that he had longed to hear since the first day they
met.

The
soldiers standing guard helped Calvin to his feet, and then they led him out of
the dungeon to a pit about a half of a mile outside of the castle. Following along behind was Cassandra, with
the help of a couple more soldiers.

No, she
did not want to be a witness to the death of her beloved Calvin, but Cassandra
couldn’t get her legs to work. Adding
all the more to her horror was a thought about her being at the mercy of the
circumstances at hand.

Then
another thought crossed Cassandra’s mind, and this one was about how she could
still save him by taking his place, which made perfect sense to her. For it was, after all, her debt to society
that he was paying, and as long as it was paid, no one could accuse the king of
being unjust.

Cassandra
quickly discovered that she was indeed trapped in something that felt like a
nightmare that would not end, however.
For not only were her legs not working, she found that she could not say
a word, nor make a sound of any kind.
Neither could she wave her arms in order to get someone’s attention.

When
Calvin reached the center of the pit, he turned to face Cassandra. Their eyes met and locked in an intense gaze
that seemed to peer into the very depths of the other’s soul. He then told her, “I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will.”

Their
eyes remained locked in that intense gaze until a fist-sized stone struck Calvin
in the temple. He reeled backwards, but
managed to remain on his feet. He doubled
over when several larger stones struck him on both sides of his rib cage, and
then an even larger stone sent him to his knees after smashing the lower part
of his right leg.

After a
hail of smaller flint stones succeeded in shredding his shirt, along with
portions of his skin and flesh, a well-aimed toss of an incredibly sharp
obsidian battle disc by the captain of the guard mercifully hastened the end of
Calvin’s suffering by severing both the jugular and carotid arteries on both
sides of his neck. This brought a howl
of protest from the minister who had forced the issue by bringing up the matter
of that arcane statute, but he quickly quieted down and slithered away from the
pit after it looked like several of the soldiers were about to start chunking
stones in his direction.

Arterial
spray covered the chalky-white clay soil at the bottom of the pit for about six
feet around Calvin before he collapsed on his back, and this made the imagery
of the scene complete. For it could be
clearly seen from the top of the pit that what the arterial spray had painted
was an exact match for the heart-shaped birthmark that could still be clearly
seen in the center of his chest. All in
attendance seemed frozen in place, and hogs could be heard squealing nearby.

Act 3

Cassandra
awoke in a really good mood. For aside
from some lingering thoughts of a very disturbing nightmare that she had just
had, she felt generally refreshed.

As was
her custom when first waking, Cassandra stretched her arms out wide and arched
her back while yawning loudly in an exaggerated fashion. This was as much meant for Calvin’s benefit
as it was for her own. For he seemed to
always get a big kick out of her carrying on so, but when she looked over at
his chair by the door, he was not there.

Cassandra
let out a blood-curdling scream when the thought hit her that her nightmare
just might have been real. This brought
servants and soldiers rushing into her bedroom from all directions.

“Has
something bad happened to Calvin?” Cassandra pleaded.

“That
is yet to be determined, my lady. For it
all depends upon what you want,” a familiar voice spoke from the back of the
crowd that had formed at the foot of Cassandra’s bed.

Cassandra
called out with a shaky voice, “Calvin?”

When he
stepped to the front of the crowd, Cassandra leapt into Calvin’s arms, and he
held her oh so very tight as she sobbed quite uncontrollably. After a few moments, she leaned back and
looked deeply into his eyes, and then he leaned down and kissed her in the way
that troubadours sing songs about.

By the
time the kiss had ended, they were alone in the room. Without saying a word, Cassandra stepped back
a little and started unbuttoning Calvin’s shirt. When she saw the heart-shaped birthmark in
the center of his chest, she gasped, “Prince Victor?”

“Yes,
it is I,” he gently answered.

Cassandra
immediately recoiled, but he caught her by the shoulders before she could get
more than an arm’s length away. Tears
welled up in her eyes, and were soon streaming down her face.

For
what seemed like an eternity to her, Cassandra could not do anything but cry,
and look at him in horror. For she had
no idea if any of this was real, or just a continuation of the nightmare about
the stoning that she thought she had awakened from.

Cassandra
finally asked him, “Was any of it real?”

“Oh
yes, it was all very real,” he answered.

“Even
the part about Calvin being held in the dungeon, and you being stoned to death?”

“Well,
not exactly. For Calvin and I are one
and the same person,” he answered.

Cassandra
was instantly overwhelmed with shock and disbelief, and all she could manage to
mumble was a meek, “What?”

“My
full name is Prince Victor Calvin. Well,
at least that is what it is at this time.
For it will change to King Victor Calvin, if we wed, of course, but I
much prefer being called just Calvin,” he replied.

Cassandra
did not say a word. She just stared at
Calvin, and then slowly turned her head to look out of the window near her bed.

As if
on cue, a couple of bluebirds landed on Cassandra’s windowsill, and started
singing. Quickly afterward, a bright red
male cardinal landed on a branch of a dogwood tree a few feet away, and joined
in. The choir was fully assembled when
three yellow canaries announced their presence from a magnolia in full bloom
just to the south of a stand of silver leaf poplars, and Cassandra felt herself
being lifted above her troubles.

All too
soon, a knock on her bedroom door brought Cassandra crashing back down to
earth. Fortunately, it was not the
bearer of more bad news. For it was just
one of the kitchen staff, and Calvin took control of a covered cart that she
had rolled down the hall.

“I know
that you have many questions, but it would make me feel so much better if you
would sit down and eat something first.
For it has been quite some time since you last ate anything,” Calvin
told her with great concern in his voice.

Cassandra
was about to motion to him to take it away when she caught a whiff of what was
on the cart, and her stomach immediately sounded its approval. For the cook had prepared little cornmeal
cakes stuffed with sliced ham, onions, green peppers and three different kinds
of cheese.

In
accordance to her prerogative, Cassandra changed her mind. For it was, after all, one of her favorite
dishes.

When
Calvin saw that Cassandra was going to try to eat some, he exclaimed with a big
grin, “Good! For I was sorely dreading
having to tell the cook that I had her go to all that trouble for nothing.”

That
brought a smile to Cassandra’s face, but she was not really in the mood for
conversation yet. So, they enjoyed the
cakes in silence, along with a carafe of fresh-squeezed orange juice.

They
continued to just listen to the songbirds singing for almost an hour after they
had finished eating. Cassandra also
watched a pair of very young bunnies played tag on a lush green carpet of
Bermuda grass under a massive live oak tree that was covered with Spanish moss
in the middle of the yard. Calvin kept
his eyes glued on her.

Suddenly,
Cassandra’s eyes welled up with tears once again, and with a voice cracking
with emotion, she asked, “How is it possible for you to still be alive?”

“When
the hogs were let in, they refused to approach.
My body was then brought before my father, and he brought me back to
life,” Calvin answered.

“How
can this be?” Cassandra asked.

“Nothing
is too difficult for my father to accomplish, but would it not be better to ask
about the reason why rather than how?”

“Okay.” Cassandra’s voice was little more than a
whisper now. “Why?”

Calvin
took a deep breath and answered, “It has to do with obtaining something truly
special for the both of us.”

“What?”

“Well, I
wanted you to know, beyond any and all reasonable doubts, that I loved you
enough to die for you. For with our
marriage being prearranged, I did not want you to have any concerns about just
how much I truly loved you.”

“So,
this was all about you wanting to prove yourself to me?”

“Not
entirely,” Calvin answered.

Cassandra
just stared at him.

After
clearing his throat, Clayton continued, “Please, understand that I know that
your character is beyond reproach.
Therefore, there is no questioning of your resolve to always honor your
marriage vows to the best of your abilities.
Furthermore, I know that you do indeed genuinely love me, and that your
love goes far beyond any reasonable expectations of honor and duty. I have always wanted to receive a very
special kind of love, however. For it is
relatively easy to love someone who can provide everything that you desire—both
materially and emotionally, and almost always does so when you want him or her
to, but it takes a very special kind of love to want to stay with someone who
has wounded you deeply. After all that I
have subjected you to, that would be the kind of love that I would be receiving
from you if you would still have me as your husband.”

After
taking some time to absorb what she had been just told, Cassandra asked in a
distant tone, “So, this was also about me proving myself to you?”

“That
is certainly one way of looking at it, Calvin replied, and then asked, “Can you
forgive me?”

Cassandra
again looked out of the window and spied the two tiny bunnies still romping
about under the live oak tree. She
sighed out of envy for their their apparent innocence.

Then
Cassandra saw a rather large snake on a low hanging branch just above where the
bunnies were playing, and her heart filled with terror when the snake slide off
of the branch and land a few feet behind them.
She was about to cry out in an attempt to warn the bunnies of their
impending doom when they scampered off before the snake could slither close
enough to strike.

Cassandra
continued to watch as the snake slithered off into a patch of big blue stem
grass, and she thought of the minister who had brought the charges of royal
disrespect against her. Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw the two bunnies kicking up their heels like nothing
traumatic had just happened, and this made her wonder about what the future may
hold for her and Calvin.

In the
same distant tone she had used before, Cassandra asked, “Whose idea was it?”

“My
father and mine,” Calvin answered.

With
the tone of Cassandra’s voice becoming a little chillier, she asked, “Was the
minister also in on it?”

“Unwittingly,”
Calvin replied.

The
answer caught Cassandra slightly off-guard.
So, it took a few seconds before she could ask, “What do you mean?”

“My
father and I were well aware of the treachery that the minister harbored in his
heart, and this is why we made sure that he knew about the arcane statute,
which was left standing in order to facilitate our plan. Therefore, it can be said that the minister
did indeed have his part to play, but the truth is that he had no idea what was
really going on,” Calvin explained.

“I
cannot imagine going to such great lengths,” Cassandra replied with her voice
trailing off ever so slightly.

“What I
wanted for us was worth paying any price, and you have already said that you
wanted it all.”

Cassandra
then knew what she should do, and without saying a word, she leapt out of her
chair and landed in Clayton’s lap. The
next step in her plan was to engage in a kiss that would make the one that they
had shared before look like a simple peck on the lips.

Their
wedding took place as had been scheduled for later that spring. Both the bride and the groom looked radiant,
and the festivities lasted for days.
Needlessly to say, theirs was a love for the ages, and they lived
happily ever after. Two hearts beating
as one, never missing a beat.

Curtain Call

To
those who can accept it, this fable is about so much more than a love for the
ages shared by Calvin and Cassandra. For
Calvin represents the Lord Jesus Christ, and Cassandra represents us—as in all
of mankind, and the entire story represents what is commonly referred to as
being the meaning of life.

Yes,
just the thought of such a premise is utterly ridiculous to even most
Christians. For A Love for the Ages was presented as a fable for broad appeal, and
there is much about reality that is vastly different than what was alluded to
in it.

Nonetheless,
I hope you will be willing to at least listen to what our Heavenly Father’s
Holy Spirit has to say to your heart.
For He is the source of all knowledge and understanding, and He can tie
up all of the apparent loose ends.

Be
assured that this is also the hope of our Heavenly Father, who truly is the
Lord God Almighty and the Creator of all that exists apart from Himself. After all, where do you think that this story
came from in the first place?

By the
way, just in case you may be thinking that Calvin is a nod toward John Calvin
and the false doctrine of election, be assured that I just wanted my estranged
son, Calvin, to know that he is often in my thoughts. Yeah, that idea came from our Heavenly
Father, as well.

Header Ospreys

TMI?

The purpose of this site has changed somewhat. For it was originally meant to help clear-up much of the confusion that now exists concerning our Heavenly Father and the righteousness of all of His most awesome ways, especially in regards to the very close and personal relationship that we can have with Him in this day and age. It still is, but in a much more subtle way. Now, if any of this has you curious, please visit FishHawk Droppings, which is where all of the books that I have been given to publish by our Heavenly Father (so far) have been placed in the order that they are meant to be read. By the way, the definition of a crackerhead is someone, who crumbles under pressure, regardless of whether real or imagined.